


Alternative ending to The Scottish Play

by Raven_River



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Child, Child Macbeth, Gen, The Scottish Play, Trans Character, alternative ending, and i didn't get to do that but i promise i'm writing another one, i actually have to two more Macbeth pieces in progress, look we all know that Lady Macbeth had a child and i had to use that, nonbinary Lady Macbeth, the entire time i was reading this i was thinking about the aprent being a trans guy, trans Lady Macbeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_River/pseuds/Raven_River
Summary: I decided to re-write the second last scene of 'Macbeth' where he dies and so this happened





	Alternative ending to The Scottish Play

Macbeth was facing the man he had just slain. “Why should I play the fool and walk into my own death when others have made so many of the same mistakes and suffered nothing?” His mind made up; Macbeth was tired. Just then a voice came from behind him.

“Turn, hell-hound, turn!” He swung round and was confronted with an over confident youth brandishing a sword that was far too big for him. Macbeth smiled wryly.

“And who, pray tell,” Macbeth swung his sword lazily, “are you?” The youth laughed – yes _laughed_. He shook off his cloak to reveal plain clothes belonging to neither side.

“You don’t recognise your own daughter?” Macbeth froze. _His daughter? His_ daughter _?_ His _daughter?_ The youth laughed again although Macbeth barely registered it this time. “My name is Christian, and I have to kill you,” she said with certainty. Macbeth felt his sword slipping and grasped it firmly, Christian’s words registering.

He shook his head, “It’s pointless – as much as you want to make me bleed you’re more likely to die yourself. I live a blessed life which will never be ended by one born of a woman.” Christian let out a gleeful peal of laughter quite out of place on a battlefield.

“And that, Father, is the best part. I have no mother. She never existed. My parent who birthed me is not, and never was a woman.” Christian’s voice softened then. “You never knew that, did you? That your wife wasn’t a woman? That she kept that whole part of herself hidden from you.”

Macbeth exploded then, “You lie! Elizabeth had no living children. My sons both died! Albert was only three months and Christian died immediately! You stole his name! Be gone with you!”

Christian advanced, her face flushed with anger, “She lied! Bet lied! She knew you wanted a son and was afraid of what you’d do to a girl, so she told you I died but I was raised by the sister of her Lady-in-Waiting.” She raised her sword – _my sword_ Macbeth realised suddenly, the sword he’d fought with in _his_ first battle – and charged with an inhumane yell. Macbeth lifted his sword to meet hers instinctively and they fought. Sometimes Macbeth was in the lead, sometimes Christian. _Whoever had taught her had taught her well_ , he noted. There were tears in her eyes as she thrust her sword forwards, deep into his stomach. She yanked it out and then up into his heart. Tears dripped down her face as she removed the blade and dropped Macbeth’s body gently to the ground, clasping his hand.

“I’m sorry, Father, but I did what I had to.” Macbeth looked up at her, taking in the dark hair swept over her sweaty face, the blue eyes so like Bet’s and the steady strength in them that he’s had as a younger man. Macbeth swallowed one last tie and died looking into his daughter’s face. Christian wiped her face dry then stood up and walked away, leaving her sword stuck in the ground beside Macbeth’s lifeless body.

 

Christian never claimed her fame for killing “the tyrant”. She did however claim her birthright and proudly introduced herself as Christian Macbeth for the rest of her life, looking straight into the person’s eye as if daring them to confront her. Those few who did usually regretted it.


End file.
